Title: The case of the Glowing Girl
Author: AnitaB
Author's Notes: It's a future flash in the BBC Sherlock verse. Sometimes Sherlock doesn't say the most hideous things. Sometimes he uses that genius brain of his to help the people he cares about most. Molly/Lestrade established, Sherlock/John established. Sherlock Molly friendship.
The case of the Glowing Girl
By AnitaB
She was glowing. Not literally, of course. But some glowing was a reliable part of reality for the last year or so.
That, Sherlock told himself, was the reason this realization hadn't occurred to him earlier.
He turned on one heel, letting his eyes flick rapidly over all the data involved in the case at hand.
The food on the counter. The glow on her face. The way she'd turned away from his kiss on her cheek. The extra button closed on her lab coat.
"You're pregnant."
"What?" Molly Hooper-Lestrade stopped what she was doing and stared at him in wide-eyed shock. "What? What did you just say, Sherlock?"
"You're pregnant. Four weeks along if I'm right." Sherlock crossed the floor towards her and took the files out of her arms to put them on a nearby counter. "You're pregnant, Molly."
She just stared at him a moment, one hand unconsciously pressing low on her stomach. "No, I'm not pre… I can't be. What made you say that?"
"But you are, Molly." Sherlock made a wave of hand that included her from head to toe and the room at large around her. "It's obvious."
The line of her lips was caught somewhere between hope, fear and disbelief and her arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen. "It's not obvious to me."
/How can you not see it?\\ Sherlock shook his head fondly. Molly was so much better at reading others than herself. "You're glowing and it's more than the newlywed glow both you and Detective Lestrade have had for months." He gave her a smile and gestured at the door. "You shied away when I kissed your cheek but lingered in my arms an extra second. You worried about your breath but didn't want to reject the affectionate gesture." A nod towards the cup and plate on the counter followed. "Tea and crackers aren't offensive on their own but are a common home remedy for nausea. Therefore, you've been sick. But not more than once or you'd have called off work and Lestrade would've checked on you by phone, at least one during today's case. You must think it's something you ate."
She started to protest but Sherlock just smiled fondly and cut her off. "No, dear, it's not just the nausea. Your lips are more pronounced but it's not new lipstick. It's heightened estrogen levels. Which would also account for the glow of your skin and the…" He paused and felt his eyes drop and his lips twist. "Half a cup size change in your measurements which you are trying to disguise by closing an extra button on your lab coat and choosing a jumper with a higher neckline."
She swayed a little on her feet. And Sherlock paused in his explanation to guide her onto a chair, leaving an arm around her shoulders for support. "Morning sickness starts early in the first trimester, well before a change in one's waistline and often before the first missed menstrual cycle."
"But how…"
"Surely I don't need to tell you how, Molly, you are married. But if you'd been actively trying to conceive, I'd expect the nausea would have made you more eager than anxious. It's perfectly logical that you hadn't put it together yet."
"I'm really pregnant? You're absolutely sure about it, Sherlock. Right?" She leaned harder against his side with a little chuckle. "What am I even asking for. You're always sure."
"We can do a blood test if you'd like to confirm it. John can man the needle. Unfortunately the ones at Tesco's won't be accurate for at least another week."
"I'm pregnant." Molly really started glowing as she spread both hands flat against her stomach with a smile. "I'm really pregnant. I have to tell Greg." Her smile disappeared and Sherlock couldn't help but pull her a little closer at the look on her face. "How am I going to tell Greg?"
She was worried for no reason. Nobody ever paid enough attention. Molly had clearly forgotten the look on her husband's face when she'd done first aid on the little girl's scrape knees at the parade last month. Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade might as well have had "Wants that woman to carry his children" written across his forehead in actual ink.
Sherlock could list at least twenty separate moments in the last two years when he'd worn a similar expression. Some well before the detective had put a diamond on her finger.
"Sherlock, how am I going to tell Greg? We didn't… plan…"
"Molly, don't be an idiot." Sherlock smiled at her, tucking her hair back and bumping her chin up to make her meet his eyes. "That man has been hoping to get you pregnant since before he proposed to you."
"You're sure?"
"Of course I am. He'll be overjoyed, more than delighted."
"Sorry I'm late, but look who found me in line at the coffee shop." Now Sherlock was smiling at John but the smile widened at the sight of none other than Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade stepping into the room on John's heels.
Sherlock glanced at the expression on Molly's face and knew he was going to do it. It would just be so much easier all around. Fear wasn't logical and Molly looked terrified. Only Lestrade would be able to convince her of the truth, so it was time to bring the man into the loop. "Thank you, John. But Molly will need herbal tea instead. Coffee would be bad for the baby."
He felt Molly's eyes snap to his face, felt her panic rise up like a flooding river. Sherlock didn't bother to look at her, instead locking his eyes on the father to be.
"Baby…" First the detective's face held only shock and only had eyes for his wife. "Baby?" A coffee cup was set carelessly aside as Greg crossed the room to pull Molly out of the chair and into his arms. Now the man was smiling and resting a hand on her stomach. "Are…are we pregnant, Molly?"
Molly Hooper-Lestrade clung to broad shoulders and managed a deep breath. "Four weeks along according to Sherlock "Can't keep his mouth shut" Holmes."
Greg's eyes shot to Sherlock's face over his wife's shoulder. "You're sure…" Sherlock decided a nod was a more than sufficient answer for a silly question. "Molly," Greg lifted her off her feet and into a kiss. "We're pregnant." He gave her another kiss, spinning this time, before the detective dropped to his knees and attacked the buttons of her lab coat. Molly braced herself with both hands buried in her husband's hair as he buried his face against her stomach. "A baby. We're really pregnant."
Molly stared down at the really quite obviously happy man wrapped about her midsection before looking at Sherlock with happy and tearful eyes. "Thank you, Sherlock."
A hand slipped into his and Sherlock let John do what John did best: hold his attention better than anything else. A smile and a kiss later, John turned to watch the pair in the middle of the lab. "Do I want to know why the symptoms of extremely early pregnancy are still on your hard drive?"
"Irrelevant data." Sherlock thought about the murder rates in the first trimester a second, then shook his head. "This is the best use I've put the knowledge toward. Best not to spoil the moment."
"Alright then. But you do know just how sweet and sentimental you just were, right?" John pressed another kiss to his lips, pulling back well before Sherlock had gotten enough. "And don't even think that I or they will let you forget it."
A smile quirked Sherlock's lips. "Or course not, I plan to get the most out of them for this favor as I can." Sherlock glanced at the Lestrades to find them kissing them again. "Later. Let's go, John."
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